


Beauty and the Beast

by Incarnation_of_Satan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, Drarry, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incarnation_of_Satan/pseuds/Incarnation_of_Satan
Summary: A Beauty and the Beast Drarry songfic.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 10
Collections: Drarry





	Beauty and the Beast

_Tale as old as time,_

Two eleven-year old boys meet in Madame Malkin's Dress Robes shop, both shopping in preparation for the upcoming school season. One has a messy nest of black hair, dark, warmly toned skin flecked with faint freckles and there's a pale, raised scar of a lightning bolt crackling across his forehead over strikingly bright emerald-green eyes. He's nervous; his eyes flicker all around the shop, and his expression is painted with a mixture of emotions; shock and disbelief and wariness and utter awe.

The other is the opposite; snow-white hair, gelled back in a sweeping wave, matched with a smooth, pale, flawless complexion, rosy lips and cheeks and icy blue eyes- like the human incarnation of winter. He seems cold, too; his clothes are immaculate and harsh. He radiates confidence, from his posture and his clothes to the way that he is so comfortable in the situation.

"Hullo," he says. "Hogwarts, too?"

_True as it can be;_

They spend seven years together at Hogwarts.

They are shown as the absolute opposite, but, in reality, they are more similar than most could ever hope to understand.

They are both children born in the midst of a war, born of parents following someone who shares their beliefs; a _powerful_ someone. Both are expected to grow up, to take the responsibilities of their leaders; to lead their allies against each other. It is an expectation that sits heavy on their shoulders. They're only children, after all, yet the weight of their worlds lie heavy on their shoulders.

_Barely even friends,_

Those seven years they spend together, they spend at each others' necks.

One goes to unhealthy lengths to be noticed- staying up all night to make badges; conducting over a hundred students in a chorus; climbing trees and making a fuss over their injuries and pretending to be a soul-sucking creature just to get a rise from the other.

One gets the attention without even trying, but spends their time carefully monitoring the other, going so far as to be nearly stalking them for over a year. They hurl insults when they meet; two raging rivers of passion, of beliefs and cares, and an ice-cold storm clashes with the burning heat of a raging wildfire, unrestrainable.

_Then somebody bends-_

The war is over.

One boy wins his life; the other loses everything but. At a court hearing, the winner stands up for the defeated. Speaks of how they both saved each other's lives. He rescues him from his own mistakes. The defeated boy is set free. Once the trial is over, he seeks out the boy who saved him.

And he thanks him. It's the first time he has ever truly thanked somebody and meant it.

_Unexpectedly._

_Just a little change,_

After that, they cross paths multiple times.

They cross paths during work, and outside of it; at the pub, with their friends, in the park. Their friends come to like each other, and arrange for these "coincidental" meetings to keep occuring.

"Back to stalking me, Potter?" one asks the other. They don't argue. They make small, rather awkward talk about one's family, and the weather, and one's friends, and the public and the appearances, and their jobs, and how _you-were-sixteen,-Malfoy,-you-can't-be-held-accountable-for-anything-so-please-just-accept-it_ and then they part, rather awkwardly; but they haven't fought, and that's just about the first time that has ever happened.

It's a change; a little one, but a change nonetheless.

_Small, to say the least,_

They keep bumping into each other; and if one resorts to old habits- well, it's not really _his_ fault that damned Malfoy is so hard to find nowadays. He only wants a potion checked out by the world-renowned potions master, is all, _Hermione_ , and he's not sixteen anymore- although when he _was_ , he was _right_.

But he does find him, and they exchange pleasant conversation as they examine the potion. Then, a few weeks later, maybe one of them gets attacked by vengeful fans of the other; and maybe the other one's resurfaced unhealthy habits pay off because he can immediately step in and get help.

And maybe that happens again.

And again.

And maybe the one who keeps getting hurt doesn't know who his saviour is, and maybe he suspects someone, even though they seem the most unlikely option. Maybe one goes to the other with their problem, and maybe the other gets the problems to stop immediately.

Maybe the one who was helped sends the helper a little something to say thank you. Maybe it's an album of pictures found in an old room in the Malfoy/Black estate with a note that says,

' _As proof of my thanks. D.L.M_ '.

Maybe the photo album belonged to one of the boys' godfathers.

Maybe it contains pictures of the boy's deceased parents and their dearest friends; maybe the boy cries a little when he sees it.

Maybe he sends back a wand, with a little note;

_'I think this is yours. -H.J.P'_

_Both a little scared,_

Maybe, when confronted by friends, both deny anything and everything. Maybe they don't quite believe it themselves when they deny their friends' accusations.

_Neither one prepared,_

Maybe the friends figure it out. Maybe they start going to extra measures to get the two together. Maybe it's a little more awkward between them now. Maybe it's an improvement.

_Beauty and the Beast._

_Ever just the same,_

Maybe, in face of the awkwardness, they return to arguing about every little thing. But maybe the insults are tinged with affection now. Maybe the arguing is more fond than angry.

_Ever a surprise,_

Maybe more gifts are given and received. Maybe birthday gifts and well-wishes are sent. Maybe there are sweets, and smiles, and laughs.

Maybe the friends- who have become mutual friends of the two boys during their plotting to get them together- plan a joint party. Maybe they the boys are a little shy as the presents are presented. Maybe they are given the only thing they _truly_ wanted by the other boy. Maybe years of studying how the other thinks, moves and acts pays off when they see the reactions of the other.

Maybe one boy gives the other a small, intricate, enchanted dragon to accent clothes that crawls all over the other boy's body. Maybe the dragon is the most treasured thing to the other boy.

_Ever as before_

They slowly resume their old stance- meeting casually, never planning to, but with more friendly banter, more inside jokes and smiles and true laughter.

_Ever just as sure_

Maybe everyone around them sees it before they do.

_As the sun will rise._

Maybe their perceptiveness will pull the boys together. Maybe it sheds light on their relationship. It is far more likely, however, that this revelation simply pushes they boys apart once more as they struggle with their feelings. Maybe one resorts to old tactics of insults and an impenetrable shield up around them at all times. Maybe this makes the other boy want them more.

_Ever just the same,_

Maybe one boy is just as stubborn as ever he has been; maybe this makes the other boy more determined, for he has always wanted what he wasn't allowed to have.

_Ever a surprise,_

Maybe he is the first person, with his recklessness and his persistence, to break through the other boy's impenetrable shield.

_Ever as before,_

Maybe their friends stand back, now, and watch with smiles as the boys learn and reconcile and begin to finally open up- truly open up- with one another.

_Ever just as sure,_

Maybe they're seen holding hands at one point. Maybe the newspaper article publishers are blackmailed by the boys' friends not to publish anything about it before the boys are ready, and risk tearing this fragile new relationship apart before it has even really begun.

_As the sun will rise._

Maybe the boys' light will keep on shining.

_Tale as old as time,_

Maybe their stories go down in history. Maybe they are analysed and praised, or criticised and hated; maybe they both hate their situation. Maybe it has been that way since they were born. 

Maybe it will be that way long after they die.

_Tune as old as song;_

Maybe they are there with each other, again; but maybe they help each other, rather than side against each other.

Maybe they make their own side, and bring their friends; a side where the past is far behind them, and the future is a new beginning.

_Bittersweet and strange,_

Maybe they tell the public.

Maybe the public is in outrage.

Maybe they are both being criticised once again, like they have been Merlin-knows-how-many-times before. Maybe it is a little nostalgic; being the only ones knowing the truth as everyone around them hurls words of hate at them.

Maybe they stay with each other the whole time, lending and taking strength as they need it.

Maybe it's a little strange to be on the same side.

Maybe it's far nicer than being against one another.

_Finding you can change,_

Maybe they both realise how bigoted and prejudiced they were as children, and finally realise that everyone is just as human as everyone else, and everyone has their problems, and maybe the best thing to do is to just treat everyone equally; spare them one more problem.

_Learning you were wrong._

Maybe there are arguments. Maybe there are insults. But maybe, now, there are also apologies and regrets that help balance everything out.

Maybe the boys' relationship just gets stronger.

_Certain as the sun,_

Maybe the teachers from Hogwarts have been watching since the boys were eleven.

_Rising in the east;_

Maybe some of them knew this would happen from the very first day at school. Maybe money changes hands from bets that have been ongoing for over a decade, now. Hands of people in real life; and painted hands, too, and the hands of those long dead. They've all watched these boys grow up together, too.

_Tale as old as time,_

Maybe they've been watching, waiting for the boys to get over themselves and get together.

_Song as old as rhyme,_

Maybe now, they smile and watch these two boys who never got to be children, who were forced to grow up too fast, grow older and more experienced together.

_Beauty and the Beast._

Maybe they are the opposite, and maybe they compliment each other perfectly.

_Tale as old as time,_

Maybe, together, they are told of to younger students in that school.

_Song as old as rhyme,_

Maybe tales are passed down through generations of hatred turned to friendship turned to love, and all the imperfections in between.

_Beauty and the Beast._

Maybe they appear back at the school, after many years, wearing smiles and glowing with happy contentment, and maybe they grow old together, in love. Maybe they have their fights and their differences, and maybe they learn to overcome them.

But for now, they are just two eleven-year-old boys in a shop in Diagon Alley, being fitted for robes. One boy is telling the other about this new world he has never heard of. A world he will one day save. And the boy before him will be there for it all.

_Beauty and the Beast._


End file.
